Through a Mirror, Darkly
by yourmirroroferised
Summary: A world turned upside down and backwards. The Hogwarts staff is dealing with the unthinkable. Minerva must carefully evaluate those she loves. TR/MM, AD/MM
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This chapter is purely speculative, a test to see if I like this concept. So let me know what you think. It's a bit backward.

Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine. They are property of JK Rowling and Warner Brothers

Darkness oozed from the very cracks of the land. The country-side was littered with the rubble of peace. The skeletons of once majestic halls now lay, gutted across the country. They served as a reminder of all the restless corpses tucked into the earth, torn apart by the same dark force. Even the once cheerful fortress of academia for the wizarding world, the insurmountable Hogwarts, had a dark smear cast up on it.

Minerva McGonagall, Transfiguration Professor, and Head of Gryfindor House, patrolled the passages of the school. The newly converted orphanage wing sent shivers down her spine. There were so many tortured, fearful young souls in her charge now; it almost made her sick to contemplate it. The halls that once sang with memories of her jovial, boisterous student days now dirged with the fretful wails of fatherless toddlers, motherless infants, and air-raid sirens. It seemed that the terrible mantle would never be lifted from her home again.

Mentally correcting herself, she reprimanded _you can't think like that, Minerva. That's why you're going to these meetings. Someday, you WILL find a solution. There WILL be a plan. _ And so, painfully blocking out the multitude of sobs from children wracked with nightmares, the Deputy strode down the hall, past the guards, and into the one hallway that held hope for their world. Stepping past the area three times, Minerva was able to seemingly march straight into the wall. The miniscule gathering on the other side gave her mute greetings. They too had traipsed past equally grim scenarios to reach the meeting. And at this point of the year, with rations at a meager size, weather offering another battle in itself, and a plague of influenza rampant in the country, there seemed little to be enthusiastic about.

Still, Albus Dumbledore stood at the head of the table, grimly murmuring with the rest of the staff, all of them much younger and more easily discouraged than himself. Poppy Pomfrey was in tears over the latest tragedy in the hospital wing. Minerva always tried to give her a sympathetic ear and shoulder, but some of the tales were too gruesome for even her battle-seasoned soul to brave. Rolanda Hooch clenched and unclenched her fist around her tattered pair of flying gloves. Meriwether Kettleburn stared blankly across the room, his eyes seeming to cradle a thousand dreadful scenes of his beloved animals destroyed with the prolific air raids. Even Archimedes Vector, who somehow managed to be enthusiastic about numbers every single morning, appeared rather drained. Minerva's eyes fell on one wizard only. The Deputy Head, Tom Riddle, practically seethed from his place at the right hand of Dumbledore and across from Minerva. This worried her. Tom was never good with his temper. And tonight was not a good night for a row.

Pamona Sprout skittered into the room, followed by a haggard Horace Slughorn, the Herbology and Potions Professors. With everyone present Albus Dumbledore solemnly stood and commenced a grim speech.

"On this, the fifth anniversary of our defeat at the hands of Grindelwald, I wish thank you all for your continued support and courage in our efforts to over throw him. It is not a man and his army that we fight against, but the basic ideas of freedom, safety, and love. I know it has been a long struggle, and we would all like to see it end as swiftly as possible. But bear with me, my friends. Carefully planned strategies will yield us our rightful victory in due time!" And with that, the meeting commenced.

That evening, Minerva was patiently pushing through her waterfall of raven hair. Apprehensively, she would check the mirror, obviously looking for someone behind her. Yet she was still surprised when Tom Riddle placed his icy hand on her shoulder.

"Tom!" Minerva froze, but then instantly relaxed a bit and returned to brushing her hair. "Darling, you scared me!" She continued, attempting nonchalance. But the smoldering anger in her lover's eyes did not give her any peace of mind. "Is something wrong?" The irate eyes snapped to match hers in the glass. Minerva had thrown up the flood gates.

"Why is Dumbledore such a coward?!" He roared, his hand clenching her shoulder painfully.

Minerva tactfully slipped out to the wardrobe. She shivered out of her dressing gown. This was not the first time they had had this discussion. Minerva delivered her typical response, "He's only afraid that more people will be killed, dearest." She selected a warm nightgown and was about to turn around when she saw tapestry on the wall burst into flames.

"People killed?" Tom whispered disgustedly. His eyes were constantly trained on the tapestry as an outlet for his fury. "What does he call the hundreds of children starving and dying in this castle? Is he deaf to their troubles? And what of their slaughtered parents, were they not people as well? He's simply a feeble old man who doesn't want to watch more of his friends die!"

"Don't you _dare_ speak of Albus Dumbledore that way!" She stalked toward him. This time Riddle had gone too far, "I was there! I saw that final battle with Grindelwald! So many were thoughtlessly tossed aside by spells. The resistance used to be enormous! We had scores of fighters. But only a dozen survived that butchery. It was no one's fault, we never could have planned for the tactics the Dark Army used. But Dumbledore seemed to think he was responsible for all of their deaths. It tore him apart! He could never do that again, Tom. He could never…" But her beloved Tom had knocked her to the floor with a resounding slap to the face.

"No, the old fool would never dare to take risks now!" He spat at the woman struggling to her feet. "And you, you all support him! You're all too busy treasuring your own worthless lives to do something heroic!"

Minerva was cradling her hot cheek as traitorous tears poured from her eyes. "Just listen to him, please! He's done this before, he knows what will happen! I beg you, listen to reason!" She was magically slammed up against the rough stone wall of their bedroom.

"REASON?!" Tom roared. "I will listen to reason when I hear it! But I am through cowering behind the rotting walls of this castle!" with that he stormed from the room, and Minerva was unceremoniously dumped onto her unsuspecting feet. Favoring a twisted ankle, she limped to the bed. Tom would return after he had cooled off. Just as he always did. But Minerva had classes the next day and needed her sleep.

A/N: It's been a while, but this is my guinea pig chapter. Let me know what you think, if I should continue with this premise. Peace! Happy Holidays!


	2. Worth Fighting For?

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Harry Potter.

A/N: It's break, so we're going to keep going with this fic.

Only Albus noticed. As Minerva left breakfast the next morning, she proceeded with a slight limp. The rest of the faculty was bogged down with thoughts of their class schedules and shifts in the orphanage. Concerned, the Headmaster left the Great Hall shortly after Minerva and tried to catch up with her.

"Professor McGonagall!" He called, a few behind her. She futilely quickened her pace. "Professor McGonagall, are you quite all right?"

This time he stretched a hand out to her right shoulder, hoping to stop her and turn her around. The moment he fingers connected with her shoulder, she flinched away violently. And the expression she turned toward him was one of genuine physical pain.

"Minerva?" He whispered, now genuinely confused and concerned about the Transfigurations professor.

"I'm fine, Professor!" Her emerald eyes shot defensive fire back.

Albus returned "Nonetheless, I would like to meet with you in my office tonight."

"It's not really your…"

"The welfare of my staff is generally considered to be my business." Albus' face was unreadable. There was no escape from his order. "My office, seven o'clock. I will accept no excuses."

Minerva's gaze was stone as well. She was not going to give up anything so easily. She glided icily off to her first class with as much dignity as the limp would allow. The Headmaster's concern tightened as he watched her disappear.

***

The Headmaster dreaded fewer conversations than the one he was about to have with his Transfigurations Professor. Personally feelings had to be shuttered, and the problem had to be handled on a strictly professional basis. Minerva McGonagall had been at Hogwarts and a friend and student of Albus' for over fifteen years. He had never approved of Tom Riddle, his affinity for the Dark Arts was a bit too strong. But the thought of Minerva being mistreated by such a pervasively dark being enraged Dumbledore. Tonight's topic required a great deal of tact and control, and Albus was not sure he possessed either. But the staircase was spiraling up to his door, and the moment of testing was imminent.

McGonagall seemed tired. If Albus recalled her schedule correctly, she had just gotten off a shift in the orphanage. Every staff member knew and dreaded the teary wails or, worse, the hollow stares that filled those shifts. A fresh tear-stain on Minerva's shoulder seemed to indicate that she had been in the thick of the emotional turmoil. She gratefully slid into the proffered overstuffed chair.

"Professor McGonagall, I know that you and Professor Riddle have been in a relationship for quite some time now. And even as co-staff members, I approved of this relationship. I believed you to be mature enough to handle such a delicate situation." Albus started. He froze, when he saw the wrung-out frame in the chair stiffen. This was too formal. He was speaking to Minerva as her friend, not her boss. "Minerva, I'm aware that Mr. Riddle can be a rather extreme person at times. But he can be a bit too physical with his emotions. I know that he is furious with my constantly squelching his plans. But nothing gives him the right to bring harm to those he loves."

"Tom Riddle is a genius, Dumbledore!" Minerva hissed, never turning from the fire. "Don't make this about him! He is trying to save us! His plan would put an end to the suffering of an entire continent!"

"If only you knew…" Dumbledore exhaled. He folded into the chair across from Minerva's and bent his hands up to his forehead.

"What? About the pain and bloodshed Grindlewald caused years ago? Or do you forget, I was there?" Minerva shot up, ram-rod straight. Something almost-flame like simmered in the back of her exhausted eyes. "I saw the pain, the blood. And I can only say that I would rather deal with a few months blood spilt, than a lifetime of children staring at me from soul-mangled bodies."

"It would be a massacre with the resources that we have." Albus muttered from behind his hands.

"You underestimate us! You have grown afraid of pain and loss!" Minerva sneered down at the disjointed man. "We can fix this! Tom's plan would lose the minimal amount of life. But it would bring peace, it would bring safety back to this country. Do you remember what that was like, Dumbledore? Being able to walk around with having to pass checkpoints and give identification? Being able to sleep without worrying about your friends disappearing in the night?"

"All of this… I remember," His voice caught strangely on the way to her ears.

"Tom is not trying to hurt anyone! He's trying to stop this incessant pain we face each day!" Minerva gazed down into the fire, "He's not trying to kill us, he's trying to give us our lives back! He doesn't mean to hurt anyone."

Albus stood up then, whispering a spell to remove the concealing charm from her face. "What do you call this, then?" The bruise from his blow threw itself sharply against the alabaster skin of her face. Minerva turned away. "How long, Minerva?" he placed a gentle hand on her upper arm.

"A year? I think…"She trailed off. "It doesn't matter! He's not hurting anyone! I can handle him! He's simply a frustrated genius. Once people see… It will not… It will be different."

"I'm worried about you!" Albus whispered, silently sliding the revealing charm to examine the bruise on her shoulder. "No one should be permitted to treat you like this! No amount of genius gives the right to deliberately inflict pain on those you love! He must be stopped!"

"You want to put an end to this?" She stabbed back at him. "You want to really fix this? Then take a stand. Listen to his plans! Fight this terrible darkness that drapes over us! We may not be able to beat it, but we can at least die reaching for the light."

"Minerva! I'm talking about your health!" He lectured, parentally.

"And I'm talking about the health of the country, Albus Dumbledore. A country that once called you hero and looked to you for hope." She turned to face him, "You want to end Tom's anger? Do something! Stop hiding, stop cowering in the Hogwarts Grounds. You want to save me? Save the country."

With that she stiffly charged from the room. Albus was left to stare open mouthed at her stunning slap. No one had dared speak to him like that in years. Perhaps it meant something. Maybe this was, once again, the time to take action.

***

"What did the old fool want?" Tom smirked, already lounging in bed when Minerva entered their quarters.

"I think he might be coming around, dear." Minerva smiled, gently examining her bruised face out of Tom's sight in the bathroom. "He's finally found something worth fighting for."

"What's that?" A black eyebrow shot up.

"His own sense of chivalry." She muttered.

"Darling, you're too tired. You're making no sense! Come to bed!" Tom yelled, completely uninterested in Minerva's injured state.

A/N: Yes, I think this one will continue. I'm unsure as to the length, we'll see how each chapter fills out. Reviews are deeply appreciated, especially with such a controversial plot/situation. Let me know what is on your mind!


	3. In Brighter Dreams

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

The next day was Saturday, and in spite of herself, Minerva woke feeling cheerful. The unexpected ring of brightness resonated not only in the smile of the Transfigurations Professor, but in the very air of Hogwarts. The children were allowed outside to play for a few sunny hours, and a rather hodge-podge game of quidditch was struck by a few of the students. Most of the teachers were outside supervising the outdoor adventures, and basking in the heartening sunshine. A combination of sunshine and children's laughter is an irresistible tonic. In mere moments, it had the entire staff rosy-cheeked, song-eyed, and chuckle-filled.

Tom Riddle, however, was inside, conducting a detention he had handed to a particularly cheeky seventh year Ravenclaw. The lad was the outcast son of a rather prestigious family. To make matters worse, Gemini Lestrange had a twin brother in Slytherin who passionately subscribed to the family recipe of dark magic, secret undertakings, and a strong hand in wizarding government. But Gemini betrayed the family ideal by first becoming a Ravenclaw, and then even failing to produce any marked dark genius.

His lanky frame was folded into a Hogwarts desk on such a fine day for making a rather unsavory joke regarding the Deathly Hallows. His spindly, arachnid-like appendages were entirely focused on the parchment he was ordered to fill. The tightly curled black hair on his head almost seemed to emit smoke as he tried to recall the exact way to approach and render harmless a Transylvanian Vampire. Tom smirked at the boy's lack of ability to focus on such a simple task. Little did he know that the scrap of spare parchment Gem had brought to the detention was folding itself into a remarkably patterned bird.

"Mr. Lestrange, I would hate to have to report you again for lack of attention to your studies." He leaned back in his chair, glancing over the lines of a poem he intended to charm Minerva with later that night. "Already this semester, you have served detention three times! Can you not begin to sense a pattern in your academic career?"

"If you please, Professor, Gem sent the bird soaring quietly around the desks.

"I've never understood the obsession with all of this dark stuff!," The bird perched by the window,

"This chasing after Vampires, Harpies and all manner of deadly danger. Trying so desperately to understand their behavior" It projected a soft, rather crackly song.

"When we can be pouring over such fascinating beauty and substance as a simple bird" the bird returned to perch on his shoulder.

"_Incendio!" _Riddle flung carelessly at the new-formed pet. The ashes drifted darkly from the boy's shoulder to his arm, forming dark, tear-like patches. "You learn, foolish boy, so you can protect the beautiful things! I obsess, I study, I nitpick so, when the time comes, I can fight it off! There are beautiful things, yes. But that only makes them all the more worth guarding. And sometimes, in order to fully protect the things you love, you have to become a little bit of the thing you protect from."

"If that's true, sir, than I never want to find anything worth protecting." Gem's rather heavy eyebrows folded into the middle, "I never want to become dark for anything. Then I would feel unworthy, too dirty to touch the beautiful, pure things I love!"

Tom stared bitterly at the poor Ravenclaw in silence until Lestrange felt uncomfortable enough to pursue his hopeless essay.

***

Minerva sighed luxuriously as she stretched under a welcoming tree on the Hogwarts lawn. She kept one arm around rather ambitious and wiggly young wizard. Every few minutes, the frolicking fellow would enact a charm that made him slippery as butter. Minerva would have to pull him back before he grasped a mouthful of grass. But while monitoring this routine, she was warmed by banter with Poppy Pomfrey and Pamona Sprout. The subject at hand was, surprisingly, children.

"Ariadne and I would love to adopt a child someday, perhaps even have a child of our own!" Pamona sighed, fussing with a tiny girl who would not be held the same way for more than a few minutes at a time. "It's merely a matter of timing. There are plenty of children around for us to adopt! I guess, I just don't want to deal with the idea of raising or being responsible for a child when the world is so irreversibly dark."

"So you think we won't be fighting back then?" Minerva posed.

"Oh, I hope so. Every meeting, I desperately hope to hit upon some kind of action we can take. I am tired of living like this." The sunshine seemed to dim for a moment, "I would do anything I could to provide a safe world for a child to grow up in."

"I agree." Poppy nodded, shifting the sleeping child in her arms "It breaks my heart to see the kinds of injuries I treat on children nowadays. When I was being trained right out of Hogwarts, they still taught us how to set broken arms and give cough potions to small children. Those were the normal dangers that small witches and wizards faced! Now, I look at the cases coming into my wing. None of them are broken arms from falling from trees or sniffles from playing in the rain. These children are suffering from things most adults our age never experienced, starvation, plagues, shock."

"I suppose that's why Tom and I have never discusses children," Minerva mumbled to herself.

"You would have children with him?" The shock was hard to erase from Pamona's voice.

"You know, I've never stopped to consider it. This relationship has been going on for quite some time, yet I've never really stopped to give any thought to the direction it's going." She paused, "Yes. I think I want children with Tom. I would like to raise children with him when we have settled thing down. Once everything straightens out, I think Tom would make a wonderful father."

"And you'd have stunning children, let me tell you!" Pamona joked, amicably flirting with her long-time friend. And indeed, the sunlight was the perfect highlight for her aristocratic, carefully etched beauty.

"Well, one thing's for certain!" Poppy laughed, "No man will ever get me to be a mother!"

"Ha!" Pamona shot back, "With your mothering instinct?"

"Poppy Pomfrey!" Minerva chimed in, "With your maternal nature! I'd wager that you can't make it the next ten years without at least one offspring!"

The rest of the afternoon was lost to warm chuckling, cajoling, and reminiscing.

***

Albus tossed and turned over the sharp canyons, crags, and crevices of his conscience. The last hour had been poured onto a chalkboard. His ideas were magically flying onto the board so fast that the air was thick with chalk dust. The sunlight that dared to mingle in gave the room a rather cloud like state, forcing Albus to feel as if he was floating in a dream. The portrait on the wall finally dared to comment.

"You are in far beyond your abilities, Albus."

The voice of the former Headmaster seemed to float in the cloud as well, allowing Albus to imagine that his old mentor was indeed present in the room, giving him advice.

"What do you mean, Armando?" He asked without opening his eyes.

"First, that girl. Minerva? You have feelings for her that are getting in the way of something." He cleared his throat politely, "Or did you not see how many times her name appeared on that board, only to be erased?"

"I am well aware of how I feel for Professor McGonagall. But she is not available for my advances." Dumbledore cut off the discussion swiftly.

"If that is how you wish to approach it. But then you must learn how to handle your concern for her." The wise voice seemed to weave in with the chalk and sunlight now, "She's a grown woman, and while you may wish to protect her, there are many worse evils to be purged from this terrible world."

"But this one is happening right under my very gaze!" Albus' hands began to involuntarily clench on his armrests. "Surely I can do something to…"

"Yes!" Armando nearly shouted in interruption, "Yes, you can! You can fight! You must give up any hopes you hold of a cushioned, miserable existence. This type of defeated, imprisoned life is not what you were meant to lead, Albus! You are still a tragic hero at heart! You must do something to right this world and end this suffering!"

"Riddle's plan?" Albus muttered, regretfully.

"The boy was always a genius during his days as a student," Dippet mused "Terrifyingly dark, but a genius nonetheless. Consider it, Albus. Being free once again. Free to rebuild and start a new, safe life. Isn't that the best kind of protection you can give to a young soul like Minerva McGonagall?"

***

That evening, another resistance meeting convened. The entire klatch was in rather good spirits from the exceptional weather. The murmur of the group seemed to sing on a positive note, and shored Albus' spirits for the announcement he was about to make.

"Friends, colleagues, I want to call this meeting to order swiftly. We have much to discuss." Albus drew a deep breath for the essential plunge. "I have come to recognize the wisdom of Tom Riddle. I believe it is time for us to take a stand. It is time for us to fight."

A/N: Best holiday present ever: Reviews. Thank you to those that do.


	4. Taking Sides

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Minerva curled and stretched gently before hopping into the shower. The warm blanket of the shower dried the soreness from her exhausted muscles, just as she swiftly toweled the water from her aching body. The past two weeks of training had been beyond intense. Albus and Tom switched off designing obstacles courses and training scenarios for the staff. Each day left the staff, accustomed to only slightly less dangerous work of teaching teenage wizards, more sore and tired than they had been in years. And Minerva was beginning to feel the effect. Her feline animagus crept into tiny sensibilities such as stretching. Tom walked into the room several times to find her in the most uncanny stretches, and he would chuckle and lovingly wrestle her out of it.

Albus agreed to enact Tom's plan after a one-month training period. As a whole, the meeting had gone rather well.

"_It is time for us to fight." The entire room seemed to hold their formerly bubbling energy in check. This was a joke. Dumbledore had finally lost his mind, and the entire resistance was going to collapse. _

"_Aye! It is!" Hoping to carry the synergy of the meeting, Minerva stood in support of the Headmaster. _

"_I agree." Tom rose victorious. "Now, Grindelwald has a major weakness…"_

"_Wait!" Albus turned to him with a raised eyebrow. "I agree. But first we must have one month to train. The people in this room are some of the most capable witches and wizards in all of England. But my conscience will only let me rest knowing that I have done everything in my power to make sure they are in the best form for winning this battle. The odds are not spectacular, but we can make them better." _

"_I'm with you!" Archimedes Vector replied, his enthusiasm bursting forth once again._

"_You'll have my broom on your side!" Rolanda Hooch popped up. Her eagerness was unstoppable, and the tsunami rippled down the entire table. _

"_Very good!" After a nod from Dumbledore, Riddle took charge. Every single one of his dangerously charismatic teeth flashed as he laid out the details of his plan. _

Minerva came into the bedroom to see Tom gingerly tending a rather deep scratch. Dumbledore had created a mock battle for them today, and a few tights spots had blown wide open. Tom's side took a few blows, but the ever heroic Riddle made sure he took the worst of it. His return volleys ruthlessly vanquished the opposing side. Minerva minced over to help him. As she finished wrapping up his wrist, Tom began to gaze at her so intensely she was forced to question.

"Whatever are you thinking, dear?" Her eyes bonded with his for just a moment before she jerked away, startled with the intensity. "Tom?" she asked, carefully rechecking the bandage on his arm.

"I can't get it out of my head, Min," He mumbled in his shakingly charming baritone. "Do you Gemini Lestrange? I had him in detention a few weeks ago."

"That boy!" She joked, returning the first aid supplies to the bathroom. "Do you know, he has such a talent for Transfiguration, if he would only take himself seriously! The other day, he turned a quill into a rose bouquet and handed it to the young Prewitt girl, Marion. He acted as if it was nothing! Even a seventh year should not be able to so casually perform that kind of magic!"

"Yes, he was talking about having something worth fighting for, darling." Tom's arm snaked gently around Minerva's waist as she returned to the bed. He pulled her closer and reveled in the heather waft of her hair. "And do you know what I realized?"

"What, dear?" Minerva was nearly holding her breath. Tom had not behaved so gently and sentimentally in a very long time.

"I realized that you are my thing worth fighting for."

"Oh… Tom!" Minerva relaxed into his shoulder. She had not felt this level of ease and relaxation around him for years.

"And you know what else?" Tom continued, his fingers gently, adoring pouring into her hair, "I started thinking about the end of this whole business. When we've vanquished the evil and can live an ordinary life again."

"I've been thinking about that too," Minerva sighed into the strong peppermint smell of his shirt.

"And what I want most is to have a nice quiet cottage somewhere in the Highlands where I can escape with you summer and holidays!" He pulled her closer. "But the most important part is having you near me."

She was so close to him, he couldn't see the tears of happiness that jeweled her eyes.

"And I've been thinking, darling," His voice fell uncharacteristically uncertain, almost timid, "I know we haven't… I mean it's never… Children. I want there to be children. Our children. The idea makes me happier than I have ever been."

"I…" Minerva had to fight to control her voice over the tears "I would like that."

Tom felt the tears, and pulled back. "Are you crying, Minerva? I…" Minerva stiffened just a bit, almost preparing for his typical wrath. But his voice continued to pacifically float toward her, "I feel that way too, sometimes, when I think what we are up against." He pulled her back to his chest, so she could feel his heart pounding against sparkling cheek, "But when I think what we stand to lose, there is no question."

Minerva had never felt more secure, more at peace in her adult life.

***

There was one soul in the castle, however, who did not feel anywhere near safe or at peace. The torment of emotion was, in fact, what drove the young soul from his prescribed dorm into the halls of Hogwarts that very night. The boldness of this act cannot be underestimated. The Halls of Hogwarts, at best, were twisting, shifting, and, even in broad daylight, fairly dark. But on a night such as this, with tortured ghosts gusting through and tortured children decorating the air with putrid sobs, the poor Ravenclaw had to borrow a great deal of courage from the House he had set off to visit. Even as he stood outside the fat lady's portrait, quietly awaiting his hopeful rendezvous, his nerves were on absolute edge.

The door swung open and a merry, excitable pixie sized girl slipped out. Her flaming red hair seemed to warm not only the passage, but the face of the lad who waited in the shadows. She flitted to him, and beamed a conspiratorial, spritely smile. Many foolish but forgivable words were exchanged, with hopeless daring. And finally the sprite evanesced back to her dorm, leaving the poor, blue Ravenclaw to stare after her, as if held by a charm that would not release.

***

The next day, shortly after lunch, Albus Dumbledore received an unexpected visit from a student. The young Lestrange tripped his way into the mysterious office of the Headmaster, looking rather rosy and bold. He made his stance before the expansive administerial desk and person and began his plea.

"Professor Dumbledore, I'm Gemini Lestrange," He began with the basics, hoping to gain momentum for his more daring feats.

"Yes! Seventh Year Ravenclaw! I know you, Mr. Lestrange! Continue!" Dumbledore smiled, pleasantly. Minerva murmured of the boy's skill in her classroom a few occasions.

"Sir, I know we are living in Dark Times, the worst we have seen for several generations. I am aware that my family is very much allied with these Dark forces, and has always been enamored of such elements." He was getting on much better now. "But, sir, as Professor Riddle will tell you, I do not share their love of the Dark Arts."

"I am very aware of this, Young Mr. Lestrange," Dumbledore nodded, encouragingly. Gemini looked very important, as if he had a man's burden to voice. Dumbledore was thoroughly trying to encourage his strength and persistence in the matter. "Please, continue!"

"As a Ravenclaw, sir, I have begun to notice that things about the castle have changed the last few weeks." He filled his chest with one last heroic breath before the plunge, "Professor Dumbledore, I know that you are training an army to fight against the Dark Emperor. I would like to join your army!"

"What? Mr. Lestrange, are you quite sure?" Dumbledore stood now, somewhat alarmed. Had they been so obvious?

"Do not worry, sir. None of the other students know of it, I am sure." Gemini gained boldness with every word, "But, sir, I have found something worth fighting for! I am of age! And as a young man, practically my entire life hangs on the outcome of this battle. I think I should be allowed to fight it."

"One moment, Gemini."Dumbledore raised his hand, "Professor Riddle! You may step forward." Materializing out of a bookcase, Professor Riddle stepped forward to join Dumbledore, "Surely, you knew I would detect you! Why did you eavesdrop?" He demanded, almost irked.

"I have paid special attention to this young man in the past few weeks. And I believed I knew the vein of this conversation. I merely wanted to confirm my suspicions, and personally vouch for his joining us." Professor Riddle's eyes were at their most persuasive. "He has great skill in Transfiguration. And while not versed in the Dark Arts, he could hold his own on the battle field."

"Very well, Mr. Lestrange," Dumbledore turned back to Gemini, with a slightly puzzled expression, "We will bring the matter up at our next meeting. Please, do not discuss this matter outside of this room. Mention this to no one else. Am I clear?"

"Yes, Professor Dumbledore! I will tell no one!" the Lestrange stood tall as a man.

Shattering the statuesque moment, a ruckus charged up the stairs. The door to the room exploded in one massive knock, and all three members of the room whirled with drawn wands on the intruders.

It was Covert Intelligence, Grindelwald's eyes and ears. They were responsible for the vanishing of many family members of those at the school. They had never gained reason to breach Hogwart's sacred gates. But today, they had corrupted its halls with the greatest boon of all.

"Albus Dumbledore?" a grey-robbed Wizard with matching slimy hair stepped forward with an officially sealed parchment.

"Yes." Dumbledore's jaw tensed, as did his hand.

"We have reason to suspect that you are conspiring against the Emperor and his sacred government. You are to come with us for questioning." A terrible, slimy voice intoned, "And you, Tom Riddle, are to assume his as Headmaster of Hogwarts, until such time as he is returned."

Tom's crackled with spells ready to be shot off, but Dumbledore beat them to his mind, _Wait, Tom._ Dumbledore's voice reprimanded, _Not here, not now. Remember the plan, think of the students. Think of Minerva. _With that, he was escorted from the office of Headmaster, and from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

A/N: PLOT TWIST! Ha! Right, thank you to my wonderful reviewers. I hope you are enjoying this story! Let me know your thoughts! Plot bones are even acceptable! Thanks for reading!


	5. Do you trust me?

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

The meeting room was quiet. Everyone stared solemnly at the wood pattern of the table, as if would it was Albus Dumbledore's coffin. The massive doors slamming shut as they escorted him from the school might as well have been a coffin lid for their odds of seeing the beloved Headmaster again. Even Gemini, whom Riddle had not allowed out of his sight all day, seemed pensively bowed as if he knew the gravity of the entire situation.

The school had been chaos for an hour afterwards. The staff was forced to confine students to their dorms, and the nursery was given a dreamless sleeping potion all to eke out time. Students had started panicking, and a few of the staff were not far away. Everything was pulling on this moment, trying to tear their pending vengeance away. Tom felt this weight, as he stood the new head of the table.

"We must rally!" Tom was forced to control his voice. His frustration was rampant. The entire plan crumbled at the table as they mourned. Albus Dumbledore was a great man, a better wizard, and one of the best Headmasters Hogwarts had seen in centuries. But the best way to help him was the carry out the plan. Riddle was trying desperately to convey this to the somber congregation before him.

Minerva stood, her gaze signaling Tom's silence. "This is a terrible, terrible place to be." She chanted almost as if she was singing, soft as a lullaby. "Not even Dumbledore saw this happening. But we underestimated our enemy. We cannot do that again. We must train as hard as we can, take one more week, at the most, and then attack."By the end of her speech, every head at the table was set towards her. Their eyes held a concert certainty. Tom stared in shock at Minerva. She had powers he did not.

An unexpected voice volleyed from the end of the table, "Let me join you!" Gemini stood so swiftly he nearly knocked over his chair. The entire table turned back to the boy. "I did not betray this meeting, I swear to you!" As he caught the smoldering glare of Professor Riddle, "You fight to free the future. We students are the future. There are a few among us who are of age, and would give anything to be allowed to fight, or given some duty when the battle falls. I know we have a great stake in what comes from this council. Please, let us have a say in our future!"

"Spoken like a true Ravenclaw," Professor Flitwick nodded. The entire table turned to Tom's unwavering face.

"Yes," Tom put his knuckles down to the table and leaned on them. "And I would have a list of the names you are certain would be willing to help and not give us away. We professors will determine which students are suitable for each position. In the meantime, you are still bound to the silence Dumbledore imposed."

"Thank you, sir!" Gemini strode, somewhat shakily to the other end of the table, pulling a rolled up parchment out of his robe sleeve. "Here are the names." He handed them to Riddle, who accepted them and then accosted him with a sobering handshake.

"Do not disappoint me, Mr. Lestrange," Tom warned, gently.

"I will do my best, sir!" And with that he turned back to the exit.

"And where do you think you're going, lad?"Professor McGonagall's voice knocked Gemini out of stride.

"I was… I mean… could I…"He was completely flabbergasted.

"You are to stay here and train with us! If you're going to fight with us, you must take the bruises and sore muscles as well!" The entire table simmered with cathartic chuckles.

***

Tom was in the Headmaster's office going over the list, and Minerva returned to their quarters to prepare for bed. She had run around all day, tamping out one chaotic eruption after another. Her mind had not had time to even process, let alone consider the state things were in. But the shower, again, proved the magical uncorking of all her tensions and knots, even the ones holding her tears back. And as the water droplet slid down the wall, so did the exhausted professor. She crumpled at the bottom of the shower, shaking tiredly. She didn't hear when Tom came in, but only felt him pulling her close under the shower water.

"Are you all right, darling?" He urgently sang to her dripping hair, as she had sung to the table earlier.

"What are we going to do, Tom?" Minerva buried in his soaked shirt. She felt the muscles in his arms contract a bit.

"We'll be just fine! Did you see the way they rallied in the skirmishes tonight? And how young Lestrange handled the drills?"His face shone with pride. "We can get past this, dear!"

"No!" her head swished weakly against his shirt, "We need Dumbledore! We can't do this without him! The whole thing won't work!"

"Why do you say that, Min?" Tom was beginning to tense up again, "I believe we came out of this stronger than we were before?"

"It won't work! None of it will work without him! I've never… It will never! We're nothing without him! Dumbledore is the most powerful wizard alive!" She wailed. At that Tom pulled back, dumping Minerva from his lap.

"How can you say that?!" He shouted, frustrated now. "You stood there! You supported me! Do you really think that old man is better than all of us? Better than the smartest Witches and Wizards in Europe? Better than me?" He snapped.

Minerva stole a glance at him, terrified. She had gone too far now.

"I knew you had a crush on him as a schoolgirl, but you were 17, Minerva!" Tom yelled, dragging her up by the arm. "Is Dumbledore a better man than me? Is that what you think?! Do you wish it was his bed you slept in every night?! DO YOU!!?" He slapped her across the face, and she fell to the floor. She curled tightly against the wall. Riddle seemed to swell in the room, towering over her. "I have powers Dumbledore has never even tried!!" Minerva's body burst into pain. It was as if a _Cruciatus_ had been cast, but Tom had never even moved his lips. No wand, no words, just the sheer power of his mind. She screamed in desperation.

Without another word, Tom released her and stormed from the suite. Minerva crawled to standing and fumbled through her preparation for bed.

***

"Albus!" A voice rolled out of the darkness.

Dumbledore had been flung on all fours onto a luxurious red carpet that seemed a pathway toward the darkness at the other end of the room. He gazed at the walls and recognized the symbol of the Deathly Hallows carved in Grindelwald's crest. This must be private chambers or offices.

"Gellert?" He faced the voice and seemed to demand, prisoner though he was. "What do you want with me?" he flung into the darkness.

"So much, my old friend." The voice grew closer, yet the darkness seemed to congeal on whatever part of the room it came from. "My very, very dear friend." Suddenly, the black curtain dropped around him, and the voice whispered in Dumbledore's ear, "I know of your plans, and I'll tell you, they will never work."

A/N: Thanks for the reviews! Appreciate feedback! I'm jerking the characters around a lot, let me know if it's believable. Thanks for reading!


	6. Should you trust me?

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

"Did you really forget me so much that you thought you would get away with this?" The darkness suddenly folded in on itself as a fire snapped into a six foot wide hearth on the right hand wall., "Even with Riddle and McGonagall, I still have the power of force on my side. You would never have won."

Albus fought to keep his mind protected. One slip and Gellert would know everything and all would be lost.

"Really, you should be thanking me," Mockery dripped from each syllable. "I prevented you from another of your blood-bath blunders."

The prisoner was whipped with mental footage of that last battle. Laughter crackled over head as Dumbledore fell to his knees. Grindelwald's missive hit its mark.

When the wizard was able to look up again he caught his first glimpse of the Dark Emperor's face. He cried out in shock, "Gellert!"

"You have never seen your own masterpiece in person, have you?" The perfect face sneered at the shock. His visage was perfect, indeed, but perfectly so. The glowing heroism of the flawless skin rounded two deceitfully mirth-filled eyes and a row of perfectly aligned champion's teeth. He was the embodiment of the Classical Hero. "I always knew the press photographs didn't do me justice."

"How?" Albus whispered, still awestruck at the sculpting

"I have you to thank, my dear friend," He swept over in his deep golden robes to pose on a towering throne by the fire. He did not indicate Albus was permitted to move. Dumbledore almost felt as if he couldn't anyway.

"After that last duel, my body was almost entirely destroyed. A combination of my enhanced abilities and the best mediwitches and wizards available were able to weave this for me."

Albus shuddered involuntarily. The charm, the dreaming, the romance of the devilishly blonde-haired boy he had met all those decades ago was replaced with a sterilely calculated counterpart. There was nothing recognizable as human in the entire body. The smile was architecture of a wand, his shoulders were crafted carefully into nonchalance, but worst of all, his eyes, once dashing through fields of dreams, were analytical weapons of perception. He could feel the very pupils sucking the light off of his skin. The foolish Headmaster of Hogwarts was shocked beyond grief, his breath had simply been stolen by those eyes.

"You underestimate us, Gellert." Albus smiled, sadly. "You simply assume that anyone associated with Muggles is weak and defiled. Muggles are some of our best students! As for the faculty, we have not grown soft. Do you know, I believe my Deputy is nearly more powerful than we were at his age? He learns remarkably fast. He has an inquisitive mind. And his genius astounds me. Tom started drafting his own defensive spells and curses. It is him, not me that you should fear."

At this, Gellert burst out laughing. It whirred like a siren, until he threw a sudden deliberate, mockingly shocked glare at Dumbledore. "You mean you didn't know?"

"What do you…" Dumbledore almost tried to push into Gellert's mind, out of habit.

"You must be getting slow, old man!" He tut tutted, "Perhaps young Mr. Riddle is becoming your better."

"I don't see…" His face was punctuated with sharp examination.

"Really, Albus? You disappoint me. I go to all the work of bringing you here, and you can't even figure out the basics of your situation!" He slumped back in the chair, like a child who had lost interest in a play, "All right, I'll help you. Riddle was the one that let me in on your little subversion!"

***

Training sped along. Their ranks grew with twenty faithful, of age students. Some were fighters, and they could hold their own against the best duelers on the staff. But a few were very adept at healing, and they were given to Poppy to serve as her aides. No one seemed to notice that a few of the seventh years seemed a bit sleepier in the classroom. None of the other students picked out that the quidditch team captains of Gryfindor and Ravenclaw seemed a little sore at practice lately. But at the end of a week, the entire sweaty, exhausted, but well armed clan was gathered around meeting table.

"I have never been more proud of a group of people in my life!" Professor Riddle glowed before the klatch. "I believe, my friends, that we are ready to attack! This Friday night, we will enact our plan. I have strong hopes for a better future! We are ready to make our dreams a reality! I can almost smell the freedom!" He reached lovingly for Minerva's hand. "I can almost feel it!" He smiled tenderly at her, "I hope, when we approach this fight you hold such visions in your heart. This is what makes us strong. This is what gives us power over such darkness as Grindelwald. Never forget the vision, never let it out of your sight! The minute we do, we are killing needlessly. That is a fate too dark to be considered! I urge you, sleep well these next two nights. Dream of the warm, delightful glory we shall taste soon!"

A cheery, but tired crowd discreetly trickled from the room. Minerva noted that Gemini spent a great deal of time talking with Marion Prewitt. They both seemed completely oblivious to the witches and wizards around them. But all of the students were ecstatic to finally be in the thick of the action. In fact, they seemed healthier and stronger after just one week of training than the professor remembered seeing them in their entire seven years at Hogwarts. She smiled to herself. Youth really would be the carrier for this vision, this dream of freedom.

***

Minerva, Poppy, and Pamona were all draped over the comfiest furniture in front of Poppy's fire place.

Pamona was the first to work up energy to speak, "I am a bit worried." She sighed, "I mean, I've known the terror of combat, but I have always been instructed to hide as my defense. The bombings, the attacks, I was always hiding in a shelter of some sort. I have never faced a battle head on."

Poppy drifted forward to rest her elbows on her knees and recline onto her palms, "It's not like a simulation. This time, whoever death takes, it's for keeps. All the blood that I deal with, thrown at me all at once, with spells zipping past my head, and me staring into the face of a dead friend." She curled back into the loveseat at her own words.

Minerva bit her lip. She was scared of the question she wanted so badly to ask. After the last response to her voicing this concern, she did not ever want to mention it again. But in the company of her best friends, she dared, "Do you think we will ever see Albus again?" she whispered.

Instantly, both of her friends sprang to her side. Minerva so rarely sounded timid or afraid, that when she did it required immediate attention. And they lavished her with attention. Pamona held her hand, tightly, while Poppy gathered the bewildered looking face to her shoulder. "Don't you doubt it, dear!" She sang, soothingly, "Before we knock Grindelwald off this planet, we shall make him tell us what the fuck he did with our Dumbledore!" All three women giggled at Poppy's ridiculous use of such strong language.

"Glad to see the girls are having such a good time!" a voice crooned from the fire. All three snapped their heads up to see Minerva's beau's head dancing in the fireplace.

"Tom!" She half winced, have smiled. "I'll be over in five minutes!" She promised, secretly very rueful.

"Don't take too long!" He smiled, "Remember what I said about getting plenty of rest?" All three women nodded, "Well… I didn't necessarily mean for my favorite professor and I… after all, what's good for the goose is often very, very good for the gander!" He threw a devilish wink and was gone.

***

A few minute later, when Minerva arrived back at the room, she found a surprisingly warm Tom awaiting her. They had not spoken of Dumbledore at all for the past week. They had barely spoken at all for that matter. Minerva was a bit alarmed at his current conduct. Her lover had been so changeable of late that she could hardly understand the source of his latest smiles. What was he up to?

Tom instantly read this in her face, "My dear, come here!" He patted the bed next to him, extending an arm he intended to surround her with.

"Are things better with us then?" Minerva sliced straight to the core of her tension.

"Darling, it could be that we only have two more nights to live. It's foolish for us to fight over the intentions of a mutual, recently absent friend." Tom sighed, "For now, we simply move past it. We can discuss things after the battle, all right?"

"That makes sense, dear," She sighed as well, leaning gently into his thoroughly reassuring arm.

"Now, I need some refreshing on this vision of mine…" Tom smiled as he continued to pursue his night's agenda.

A/N: You people are so wonderful. I know where the plot is going and everything, I just don't know how many chapters it will fill. Please, feel free to let me know your reaction, response, or general comment! Thanks for reading! Peace.


	7. And now, the Hero

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Minerva looked pale and upset. But in Tom's mind, she had been pale and sickly for a few weeks now and it was only to be blamed on Dumbledore's capture. This raised his ire only long enough for him to lose sight of his concern for Minerva. So he let her slip from breakfast that morning, having hardly touched her food.

He was in the middle of covering Elementary Curses with the fifth years when a commotion washed up to his classroom door. A wave of young, frightened students surged in and the cry sprayed, "Professor McGonagall fainted in class!"

"She was taken to the Hospital Wing!" Another voice tossed out.

"Students, clear the hallways! Return to your classrooms and remain there until a professor tells you otherwise!" With that, he shot off down the hall. There were three shocked students standing stiffly outside the Hospital Wing. They quickly scampered away from the desperately pell-mell Headmaster.

"Tom!" The Mediwitch yelled as he plowed into the private room in which Poppy had sequestered Minerva. She protectively pulled him aside.

"What happened here?" Tom demanded. Poppy was shocked at his sudden and unreasonable anger. As a prelude to her response, she slapped him.

"Don't think I don't know how you've been treating her," Poppy hissed. "You disgust me, Tom Riddle. You don't deserve Minerva, let alone the privilege of having her carrying your child!"

"How DARE you!!" He yelled, fire starting to spit from the end of his wand. And suddenly, everything stopped, "What did you say?"

"You heard me!!" She shrieked, "Minerva McGonagall is one month pregnant! And I all ready checked, it's yours!"

Tom turned floury-white and fled the Wing.

"THAT'S RIGHT!! RUN YOU LOUSY BASTARD!!" Poppy yelled after him. She saw the shocked faces of three tiny students peeking back at her, "And you three! Get to class!"

***

"You never suspected, did you?" Grindelwald smirked as Albus fell into a chair, "I didn't give you permission to sit!" the chair dumped Albus onto his knees.

"But…but this means…" Albus sputtered and gasped, drowning in this new flood of implications.

"Yes, Tom was far more brilliant than you ever suspected, Albus." He snuggled into the chair, ready to reveal the full story. "Riddle came to me with a proposition. You know me, Albus. I meet a charmingly brilliant young man with an idea, and I can't refuse. But this time, his motives and idea played into mine. Tom wanted to attack me. Of course, I laughed ridiculously at this proposal, until he explained the brilliance of it. He would give you these plans; and, once he had you on board, he would have you arrested for treason. This way, he would appear as the heroic leader of the people, and get you out of the picture all together. We had choreographed his "brilliant strategy" exactly. We even decided who would be allowed to live and would die out of your pathetic rag-tag army. You'll be happy to know we spared _most_ of the Hogwarts brats that joined at the last minute. I would allow him to appear to have lost the battle. But as the gracious, caring leader I am, I would offer him a place in my cabinet. This would quiet the resistance and weaken the voice of those who would say I am unreasonable."

"I don't believe you!" Albus growled, "Tom may be devious, but he would never sink to that level! He's better than you! He knows about things like love and humanity!"

Gellert let fire a deadly round of condescending laughter. "Do you know the first person we killed off in this little mock battle of his? The first person he handed over to me, quite willingly in fact, that little Scottish Witch he's bedding…What's her name, McGonagall? Yes. He gave me specific instructions that she must die. How does that hold to your ideals of love and humanity?"

Albus could not respond. His mind was filled with images of his coworkers, his friends, perhaps even his students scattered, bloody and broken under the Elder Wand.

"Still aren't convinced?" Grindelwald sneered as he swept past Albus and out of the room. "Don't worry! I arranged a very special viewing section for you! You can watch tomorrows massacre, I'm sorry_ battle_ from the best seats possible." And he was gone.

As soon as the door closed, the room zipped itself into a dark, stone-walled prison cell about six feet long. Albus stared oblivious into the now barred and locked wooden door.

***

Tom couldn't stop running. Once he stopped, his mind would start asking questions, and he couldn't handle that. If he stopped, he would have to go back. He would have to see the face of the mother of his child. He would start to imagine what the face of that child might look like.

_No! MIGHT have looked like,_ He corrected himself. _I will not let my plans change just because we were careless! _ He seethed. He was safely tucked in the dungeons of Hogwarts now. Locked away in the darkness, he could hid away from his own fear.

"I would make a terrible father!" he confronted, pondering images of his own father in his mind. "And what business would I have raising children in a world such as this?" He whispered to himself. "An heir would be useful." He muttered.

But then he thought of a child continually looking at him with Minerva's eyes. Having a tiny copy of Minerva's deific complexion haunt him daily would be hell. She could not be allowed to live! Even if this meant killing her after the child was born. She would never support Tom's plans. She would see straight through his ruse of joining Grindelwald. No, she had to die.

Tom felt a tear slipping down his cheek. "What?" he mocked himself aloud. "Feelings? You feel something for the Scottish Whore? HA! Fool! She would rather be fucking a dotty old queer than you!" But the tears fell harder, pouring over the emotional wall he so desperately struggled to repair. Minerva was the only human being to love him unconditionally, to constantly support him, to see him cry. He slid to his knees, and continued to sink as he gently sobbed, "Minerva…oh, gods… Minerva!"

His wand suddenly dropped from his limp hand, and he snapped his attention to it. "No! Must carry out the plan!" He whispered. "I can't bear to live like this anymore! This is the only way out! And then I will be close to Grindelwald. Close to power…Power…" He repeated the last word to himself, a mantra as he stood up and straightened himself out. It seemed otherworldly in its ability to soothe his tears and disjointedness. "Power…and perhaps… an heir." With that he was gone from the dungeons.

At the same time, several floors above, Poppy was trying to pacify a sobbing Minerva McGonagall.

***

A small rendezvous was happening in the Gryfindor Tower. Gem Lestrange was comforting Marion Prewitt, who was rather distraught at the collapse of her Head of House.

"Do you think Professor McGonagall will be all right?" She sniffed, leaning into Gem's enfolding shoulder.

"Of course she will!" He sounded quite grown up indeed. "She's a fighter! And better yet, she has something worth fighting for!"

The red-headed Miss Prewitt murmured her assent.

"You know, Marion," The brave, impetuous young man continued, "I have something worth fighting for as well. You. You are the reason I want to fight tomorrow. You will be the one on my mind the entire day!"

"Oh! Gem!" This was too much for the young lady being praised. She through her arms around his neck and promptly buried her face in his chest to sob in earnest.

A/N: Ahhh… sooo evil. I know. Two or three more chapters after this, and no more "filler" (though, honestly this isn't filler… it's plot…). We'll cut straight to the juicy stuff. Thank you for reading! Review!


	8. A Treacherous Traitor

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

It was all for show. The hands physically bound behind the back, the blindfold over the eyes, and the strong arms pushing towards some terrible destination. Still, Albus Dumbledore proceeded with an unscathable dignity. It was, in his mind, his fault. If he prevented Tom Riddle from setting his duplicitous plan in motion, none of these people would be marching so surely into death. Now, it was only fitting that he be forced to watch their slaughter, helpless. A second time his eyes would be drenched with lighter fluid for a lifetime of nightmares. But he had played perfectly into this slaughter house, and no jarring struggle would knock the course of events. The only leak in his dignity was a pearly, desperate tear that slipped miserably into his beard. The rough arms at his side stopped his progress. He was shoved into a padded chair. His feet and hands were being bound to it as the blindfold fell from his eyes.

His exclusive view of the carnage was a lavish room overlooking the courtyard. These Military headquarters offered an almost romantic view of the ruins of London. But the only view Dumbledore was permitted was the moonlit stones of the enclosed courtyard. A luxurious throne imprisoned him, even his head appeared to be bound to the red velvet of the back. Grindelwald nearly danced in front of him.

"A brief prologue to tonight's performance!" He intoned grandly, mockingly. "As you know, Tom Riddle will drag a small cotillion in through a "secret tunnel" in one of the old cellars. From there, he will unlock a "secret backdoor" by which he will let in the rest of your horde. The invaders will be pleasantly surprised by nicely cleared halls, and foolishly charge ahead. They will unexpectedly encounter a large patrol of guards. Hooch, Slughorn, and one student will die. The press of the guards scatters them into the courtyard, where it becomes entirely my own game. The guard waiting there will pick off Snape, Sprout, Vector, and two or three other students. I will sweep in at this point, destroy Minerva McGonagall, and appear to be overthrown by an artfully tearful Riddle. We will graciously spare the lives of Pomfrey, Kettleburn, and the remaining students so they never forget the carnage of that day. And you, my dear, dear friend have the privilege of witnessing this historic and daring battle."

Albus merely tried to close his eyes, but he found his sockets on fire the second his lids remained down. His eyes snapped open to the gleeful grin of the tyrant.

"Ahhh, you won't be getting out of this that easily, dear." He wagged a terrible finger at him, "I've set a charm on your eyes. And best of all, I've even cast a spell that allows you to see into the exact places where the battle will take place! Did you think I would be so inconsiderate as to make you miss key moments in my astonishing defeat?"

"What pleasure do you get in the slaughter of such dedicated, talented witches and wizards?" Albus had no other demands he could adequately voice.

"I admit," Grindelwald's face became the absolute mask of mock sorry "I was distressed by the murder of such esteemed wizarding lines such as the Vectors, Slughorns, and the Lestranges. But their zeal was simply too misguided, and had to be curtailed. It will all weave into a much smoother peace and prosperity for the chosen. You never did trust my marvelous plans, Albus. It's always stung me a little bit." A gleam of truth flashed from the ridiculously pouting eyes, "Ah well! I'm off to prepare for my entrance! I must have the proper crazed villain attire if I am to truly win my audience's hearts." With that horribly flippant declaration he swished away.

Once he was left to the guards, Albus dipped into such a profound groan, he seemed as if he would never inhale again his grief was so heavy.

***

Everyone was in position. Everything was set. Every wand was tensed. Every strong handshake, each grasping hug had been ceremoniously exchanged. But there were no goodbyes. No one admitted that this could very well be their last night on this earth. There would be time to realize that later. Gemini Lestrange was certainly not pondering such morbid ideas at that moment. He was still floating from the adrenaline fueled kiss of Marion Prewitt. He was finally going to be a hero. Not the kind his family would appreciate. But that didn't matter anymore. He was going to be a hero in his own conscience; he was finally going something worth remember and repeating to future Lestranges.

He was part of Tom Riddle's first assault. They were to slip into the mansion and provide entrance for the others. He knew his orders, and he was ready. He had trained for a few weeks now, and his young reflexes were singing with readiness and ability. They were just leaving the tunnel into the dark cellar.

"All right, you know your orders" this was the last thing Tom Riddle whispered before they stepped into the corridor.

Gemini Lestrange was now a hero.

***

Albus saw Tom and his followers blindly approaching. They slipped into the cellar, and hovered for a moment before stepping into the hall. But he watched in confusion as they did not take the agreed upon route. Instead, Riddle moved straight toward a main entrance. His guard fanned out quietly silencing any guards in the area. The Headmaster held his breath in hope.

***

Minerva crouched statue-like in the tattered garden of the front lawn. This seemed like a terrible tactical decision, but Tom had insisted. He had made a lot of sudden, strange insistences in the past twenty-four hours, actually.

"_I believe the plan has been compromised." Riddle gravely announced at an emergency meeting called the night before. "I know we all trust Albus Dumbledore, and none of us believe he would ever willingly betray us. But the forces of Grindelwald are darker and more powerful than we can afford to fathom. I believe we are strong enough to handle an alteration to our approach."_

Even later that night, he had acted strangely.

"_Minerva," He intoned gently as he sat on the edge of the bed next to her, "I won't ask you not to fight, because I know you won't listen. And I know we need you out there. But also, know that I need you desperately back here as well. After all this is over, I need you to take care of this child, no matter what. Don't let Grindelwald get his hands on this child. It is very important!" He seemed to be getting rather frantic at this point, "You have to stay away from Grindelwald as well! No matter how desperate the situation, do not engage him! Promise me!"  
_

"_What?" Minerva was shocked, despite her sleepy body, "What on are you at, Tom Riddle? Of course I'll take care of our child! As will you! And I would never give our child over to that monster! But as for not fighting Grindelwald, do you think it wise for me to promise such a thing? Can you afford to not have me helping to take him on? What if you have fallen and…" _

_But she was interrupted by Tom grabbing both of her hands. His grasp was strange, not as rough or angry as she was used to. There was only a weary, thin urgency in the touch. "It is vitally important, my darling! You must simply trust me that if you go anywhere near him, it will be a terrible, terrible thing for all of us. Please, just promise me, dear!"_

The double doors in front of her were burst open by a triumphant Professor Slughorn_. _Suddenly a wave of shadows coursed into through the doors.

***

Albus could hardly believe his eyes! The resistance had taken Grindelwald's pack of guards from behind and had picked them off with only minimal injuries to a few students and Rolanda Hooch! They now assumed sniping positions from a few of the windows and were doing their best to level out the considerable ambush in the courtyard. There had been no death yet! There was no terrorizing gore staining his vision!

Albus was so rapt by the scene below he was completely shaken by the roar that ripped through the castle. The rage of the tyrant was so great at this impudent betrayal the entire mansion boiled with it for a few moments. Those moments were all Albus needed. With Grindelwald's attention elsewhere, he was able to use simple magic to release himself from the chair and quietly neutralize the guards. He examined the scene below. It appeared that the Dark Emperor had transported nearly all of the fighters directly to the courtyard. And the few that remained in the mansion were strongly disoriented. Grindelwald himself was fuming in the courtyard, flinging spells at the courageous fighters.

As Albus flew down the stairs, the mansion continued under its orders to provide him with a view of the battle. He could see the resistance regrouping through the walls of the stairwell. By the time he hit the hallway, they had formed strong ranks. Since they appeared secure for the moment, Albus made up his mind to rescue the few that had been cut off from the main force.

He dashed into a room just off the courtyard to find Gemini Lestrange desperately dragging a Gryfindor boy with him. The Headmaster rushed to the student's aid.

"Professor Dumbledore!" Mr. Lestrange looked down suddenly, as if maybe he was as near death as his peer, "What? How?"

"No time!" He pulled him away from the mortally injured student and continued his dash down the hall, with the Ravenclaw in tow. "We can come back for him later!"

"But Professor, he's going to die!" the young man barked.

"Yes. And more people will if we don't keep our heads, Gemini!" He pulled him further down the hall.

***

Minerva was surprised as how smoothly things were going. Even with Grindelwald in their faces, everyone seemed to by holding together reasonably well. A few were seriously wounded, but the resistance had coped quite nicely. Still, it was no time to kick her feet up. She was battling three guards at once, and knew that each fighter around her had at least the same workload. The task before them was still nearly impossible, despite their unprecedented good luck so far. This would be a struggle all the way.

Suddenly, she felt a strange murmur and tingling in the air around her. It was familiar, like a taste of Hogwarts' air suddenly. Then she saw, Albus Dumbledore exploded into the courtyard flanked by two rescued student fighters. She nearly fainted in a rush of relief and shock. But a quick nick from one of the guard's hexes brought her swiftly to the battle again.

Albus and Tom wordlessly joined forces and swiftly swept to where the tyrant was mincing Rolanda Hooch. Together, they began an all-out assault on that magnate Force of Darkness. Their battle glowed with the hum of a hundred complex spells.

The sight of their beloved mentor brought renewed vigor to the resistance. The battle began to tip generously in their favor. Minerva had knocked away all the opponents in her easy range, and took a moment to glance at the battle in the middle of the courtyard. She was completely distracted by the situation. Albus had just taken a rather severe hit from Grindelwald. Tom was preparing a counter attack, but Albus stood directly in the line of another attack. Minerva completely forgot Tom's warning.

"Ya' coward!" She screeched mightily, "You can only vanquish a man terribly injured!" She charged the somewhat confused Emperor. Suddenly, his face changed completely.

"Ah! Minerva McGonagall!" He snarled, his eyes glinting, "I believe you are owed to me!" And with that he produced a death curse, so dark and terrible, he would have enjoyed her death screams for hours to come.

"She is no longer yours!" Tom Riddle dove in to block the spell without a moment's hesitation. The impacted knocked him to the ground. Minerva swept him to his feet, as Albus managed a weak curse to distract Grindelwald. Minerva produced a stinging hex of her own. Grindelwald rounded on her. He flicked a curse that crumpled Minerva in a fast growing red stain.

"You will pay your dues, you little whelp!" The Emperor sneered, turning to Riddle. Pressed for time, he simply shot a speedy death to the treacherous traitor. Grindelwald savored the scene. It was exactly what Albus had hoped.

"Love always carries the day!!" Albus roared, pulling from the deepest roots of his strength. He fired a deadly curse at the Dark Emperor. In his fast darkening vision, he saw Grindelwald fall. And then he felt as if he was hit by a train, and everything was dark.

A/N: Delayed update, yes. Soon to be completed. Two more chapters at most. Thanks for reading. Please review!!!


	9. Though it hurts

A/N: Sorry it took me so long to wrap this one up! Here's the final installment! I will not be writing again for a while, due to life and such. Enjoy!

Albus couldn't feel anything. He seemed suspended in invisible jello. His body ignored any commands to move. A voice gently brushed his cheek. It was his name. Someone was saying his name. A grey blur stood in definition before his eyes. A face emerged in his perception.

"Albus" Tome Riddle had never looked healthier. He was not exactly grinning, but his body seemed to smile.

"Tom?" Albus couldn't speak still, but felt his thoughts float into the infinite vaporous ocean. "What happened?"

"Everything is secure, for the moment," The voice had lost all of the tense, contentious edge of its owner. Riddle's face hardly recognizable, the suspicion and grasping left it fresh, even beautiful. "I linger because there is an errand for you to fulfill."

"Are you gone then?" Albus' mind moved slowly in this rolling fog.

"You will not see me again in the world. But I attend another matter," The fog deepened and softened, "My love is broken and needs attention. And there is a child. You must help her." The perfect face almost creased with worry and longing.

"Of course!" His mind answered instantly, "A child? A baby! Minerva is…" he drew to a halt.

"We created a child that Minerva carries," He continued in a monotone, "She will need support. Do not let her starve. As for her emotions, deal with them as you will. But know this: she loves you. I must go." The fog began to seep into him.

"Tom! She loves you too!" Suddenly everything was sucked to black. An eddy of murmurs tickled his mind and swept back several times before sounds reached all the way to his brain. He regained control of his body. And Albus Dumbledore drew in a might, desperate breath. Instantly voices poured in.

"He's awake!"

"Get those bandages over here!"

"Professor Dumbledore!"

"Don't panic!"

"Albus!"

"Please try to remain still!"

Albus was lowered back to the pillows. His entire body tingled with diagnostic spells. And then the pain flooded in. He groaned with enough force to roar. He was alive again.

***

Twenty-four hours later, Albus was able to amble down the hall. He moved toward his sole destination of importance with as much speed as he could whip up. Information was still zinging about his mind.

Grindelwald was dead, and his regime was rapidly crumbling. The radical supports were being subdued. There was even talk of electing a Minister and reinstating the old governing forces. Rays of dawn were finally spoking on the horizon.

Albus' errand was far less sunny. He had been informed that Minerva McGonagall had sustained severe injuries, even more life threatening than his own. He found her room pinballed with healers. Upon entering, he was given a chair, and after whispering a few words to one of the healers, emptied the room. He was alone with Minerva.

She silently regarded him through weakly propped eyes. Albus almost turned away from her gaze. He didn't know how much she knew, how much wanted to tell her. _Your lover was going to kill us all_. No, that would not go over well. _Tom wasn't as bad as I thought_. Now wasn't the time to deal with that.

"I know, Albus," She croaked. The tears on the edges of her eyes confirmed her statement. "I know what Tom did. I know everything."

"How did you find out?" Albus began to breathe again. He had missed Minerva, the way she could so swiftly put him at ease, read his mind.

"A Pamona told me." She fought to sit up, briefly, but soon surrendered back to the pillows. "One of the guards confessed that they had strict orders that would have completely cut off our first plan. Too perfect, too complete. He said Tom Riddle had given them the plan. It was hard for me to accept at first. But the fact that he changed, that he saved us…" She nearly broke into sobs in earnest, but after a steadying breath, she continued. "Well, it helps."

"Minerva, about the child…" Albus reached his hand for hers.

"Yes," Minerva smiled sphinxishly. "His little legacy. Apparently, the child is unhurt. I will try my best to raise it as befits the child of a hero. I can tell, even now, he will have eyes just like his father's. They will torture me every day. But he will have part of me as well. And I can learn to love all of him. That's what you always say, isn't it Albus?"

Albus drifted to her eyes, "What's that, Minerva?"

"Love, Albus. Love! It's what separates us from Grindelwald, from pure evil. That we can love. So I suppose we have to keep loving. Even when it hurts so." The tears finally surged.

Albus clambered on the bed, wrapping her in reassurance, comfort, and, most important, love.

A/N: drop me a line, let me know what you thought of this chapter, of the series! Thanks for reading! Peace!


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